come and shave me and lay out my things, if you will."

"Very good, sor. In wan minute."

But O'Hagan's conception of the passage of time was a thought
vague: his one minute had lengthened into ten before he appeared
to wait upon his employer.

Now and again, in the absence of the regular "man," O'Hagan would
attend one or another of the tenants in the capacity of substitute
valet: as in the present instance, when Maitland, having left his
host's roof without troubling even to notify his body-servant that
he would not return that night, called upon the janitor to
understudy the more trained employee; which O'Hagan could be
counted upon to do very acceptably.

Now, with patience unruffled, since he was nothing keen for the
evening's enjoyment, Maitland made profit of the interval to
wander through his rooms, lighting the gas here and there and
noting that all was as it should be, as it had been left--save
that every article of furniture and bric-a-brac seemed to be sadly
in want of a thorough dusting. In the end he brought up in the
room that served him as study and lounge,--the drawing-room of the
flat, as planned in the forgotten architect's scheme,--a large and
well-lighted apartment overlooking the street. Here, pausing
beneath the chandelier, he looked about him for a moment,
determining that, as elsewhere, all things were in order--but grey
with dust.

Finding the atmosphere heavy, stale, and oppressive, Maitland